


Sharks

by TheManSings



Category: Shameless (TV), Shameless (US)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-21
Updated: 2013-04-21
Packaged: 2017-12-09 01:43:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/768521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheManSings/pseuds/TheManSings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey likes to pretend he enjoys not feeling but Ian Gallagher refuses to let him believe it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sharks

Sometimes he thinks he likes it -- the feeling that he can’t breathe and that he’s tied at the bottom of a pool and there are sharks _everywhere_ but there shouldn’t be sharks because it’s a _pool_ , and wouldn’t they die anyway?

Sometimes he thinks he must like it because it’s better than breathing in fresh air and shampoo on red hair. He doesn’t get dizzy at the bottom of the pool because he’s always had shallow breaths and he knows that you need to gouge sharks eyes out and punch them in the nose. He can punch a fucking shark in the nose. He’s fine.

Sometimes there are fingers gripping his hips so tightly he can trace the forming bruise in his mind and it scares him. But he doesn’t get scared; he’s swimming with sharks. He doesn’t need to acknowledge the swift punch of air that invades his throat with every accidental gasp.  It doesn’t taste alarmingly clean, it doesn’t remind him that he’s alive and that he wants to breathe in the bruising hands. After it’s all over he has a smoke for good measure, just as a reminder.

He doesn’t need to breathe, sometimes he thinks he likes it.

“This beer is gross.” Ian turns and every muscle in his body clenches at his distaste. They’re still naked and sitting on Mickey’s bed. He likes to keep them in there even when no one is home. An extra door could never do any harm. “Has this been sitting out? Don’t you taste that?”

He swirled his own bottle around and shrugged. It tasted fine. It tasted like it always tasted.

They got into a fight soon after that because Mickey couldn’t taste it and Ian could and he said _well why don’t you care that it’s bad_ and _there’s something wrong with you Mick._ He wants to tell him about the pool an the sharks but Gallagher can swim and no sane person would stay with the sharks anyway. Right?

When they’re almost caught next week by an elderly woman passing by the right alley at the wrong time Ian pushes him and demands to know what he’s so afraid of.

“Fuck you, I ain’t afraid I’m just fucking smart.”

He puts his hand on Mickey’s hip and pulls him closer and burns his insides and whispers in his ear. “You’re _afraid_.”

They don’t talk or see each other for five days after that. He sits in his house and watches cartoons and drinks bad beer. When he gets stoned and watches spongebob he laughs because they can’t seem to get this damn pizza to this guy and his almost chokes on the oxygen.

The tv turns off for the rest of the day after that so that he doesn’t laugh again.

“Mickey?” Ian pops up behind him on the street one day. His eyes wide and there’s something else there that Mickey is sure he’s not capable of explaining. “I miss you.”

There’s a quick fuck in the storeroom and soft whispers that could be mistaken for moans. His skin gets tight when he hears his name breathed out.

When he kisses Ian for the first time he thinks he’s going to die. He thinks he can’t ever do it again because his heart beats too fast like he actually needs air and he doesn’t want to open that fucking crypt full of dead bodies and guns and self loathing. Ian says that’s not the saying. Says _its can of worms Mick_.

Sometimes he thinks he actually doesn’t want to be in the pool. Sometimes he thinks maybe he’s allergic to chlorine. It’s a fleeting thought.

“Say something!” Ian is screaming in his face. He can’t do anything but press his body closer into him. He doesn’t want to say anything but he thinks he might not be able to get away with it this time. The cocaine is still in his system, he’s getting jittery.

He crashes his lips into Ian’s because Mickey can make out with Ian, he can do that. He can bite and lick up the blood and clatter teeth so desperately because he doesn’t need to breathe for that. He’s not allowed to breathe when he kiss Ian like that.

He wants to tell him that he’s a coward, that he’s scared shitless. He wants to say that maybe he thinks he likes it, this whole fucking thing. That maybe that’s why he’s trying to run away because sometimes he thinks he may like the ease of not having to breathe.

It hurts less to not have to taste it.


End file.
